


Shiny and New

by virginie



Category: IT Crowd
Genre: M/M, Mistaken Identity, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 20:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virginie/pseuds/virginie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moss and Roy wake up on the office floor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shiny and New

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heyitsk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyitsk/gifts).



The morning after, Moss woke up on the office floor entwined in Roy's sweaty arms.

His glasses were hanging on a clump of silly string clinging to the underside of his desk, a foot above his head. He grabbed them successfully on the third try and manoeuvred them onto his face one-handed. Roy didn't stir.

Moss had a queasy moment where he could feel himself recklessly leaping to conclusions.

"For flip's sake, calm down Moss!" he told himself sternly. "Don't go down like a hot server with an Asia-Pacific traffic overload." As a precaution he placed his hand over his ear, assessing for overheating. Relief: systems normal.

Clearly the first sensible step (and the first sensible thought he'd had since waking up—he didn't mind admitting) was to take a conscientious inventory of his environment.

**Inventory by Maurice Moss: On the floor underneath Roy, Saturday, 11:41am (cross-checked with Toy Story digital watch,) December 22nd, 2012.**

  1. _The contents of a bag of M &M's strewn across the floor within arm's reach.  
_He groped one-handed and collected a green one, propelling it to his mouth. Better.
  2. _Jen, in brassiere, underpants and a men's shirt, standing in the doorway to her office, giggling.  
_ Ignore that for now.
  3. _Roy, fully clothed, stuck to his side with what felt like hot glue, one heavy arm pinning Moss down, one uncomfortably underneath his neck, snoring intermittently.  
_ Need further data.
  4. _Many empty or half-consumed wine bottles, glasses, popped balloons, beer cans, empty chip packets and lollies, spread liberally through the IT Dept._
  5. _He, Moss, underneath Roy, dressed only in his second best underpants.  
_ Best come back to that one.
  6. _Headache.  
_ In this topsy-turvy world a headache could be explained by the empty bottles.
  7. _Jen, still giggling.  
_ (No, block her out.)
  8. _Music, playing at 80-85 decibels (could be damaging to his delicate eardrums,) repetitive high-pitched vocal, F Major, 118 bpm_ , _circular progression through all seven diatonic chords, lyric beginning: 'I made it through the wilderness, somehow I made it throu-ou-ough.' On repeat.  
_ Need further data.
  9. _No memory of how any of this happened, or answer to question: Why wasn't he in his bedroom at home eating wine gums and organising his rock collection as was his usual practise between 11:35am and 12:15pm on a Saturday? Why?  
_ New data input: Roy was waking.



Roy's eyes opened, crusted with frankly adorable sleep. He smacked his lips a couple of times and cuddled more firmly into Moss, eyes slipping closed again. Moss twisted his head enough to press his lips to Roy's forehead. _That felt better._

There was an increase in the noise from the doorway, Jen almost sounded like she was choking. Moss turned to look at her, concerned. The music still blared out, from, Moss now realised, the vicinity of Jen's office.

_'I was beat, incomplete, I'd been had, I was sad and blue,  
But you made me feel, yeah, you ma-a-a-ade me feel, shiny and new...'_

Moss did not feel shiny and new, and he was certain this infernal noise would disturb Roy's sleep.

"Jen?" There was a momentary pause in the gasping.

"Jen, could you turn that dreadful racket off, please? Roy is sleeping!"

He looked at her more closely. Her hair was standing straight up on one side and flattened to her skull on the other, she was wearing a necklace of popped balloons over the aforementioned brassiere, underpants, and shirt, and her lipstick was smeared over her cheek.

Light bulb! It was all beginning to make sense. He assumed a jovial tone. "Jen, am I to understand that we've all had somewhat of—what is commonly referred to as—a 'rough night'?"

She staggered over towards him and collapsed on her hands and knees, still giggling.

"Yes, Moss," she said in a high-pitched whisper. "We did have a 'rough night'."

"Jen!" a deep voice bellowed from the depths of her office. "Jen, my beauty, my sweet honey-suckle child; come back to our bower. I must sup from your pure waters again. I must worship you as God and Man intend."

Jen looked behind her, and there in the doorway stood Douglas, his magnificent physique thankfully veiled by a chair that blocked the view of his lower half. Just to be safe, Moss removed his glasses.

"Oh, no," said Jen.

"There you are, my ravishing beauty."

"Jen," whined Moss, "He'll wake Roy." Roy was indeed stirring again. Moss snuggled deeper into his arms, and placed another soothing kiss on his forehead. There was an orange M&M stuck to the side of Roy's temple. It looked clean. Moss nibbled it off.

_'Like a virgin, touched for the very first time,  
Like a vi-ir-ir-ir-gin, when your heart beats next to mine...'_

"It wasn't me, Moss." Jen was still whispering.

"Je-eeee-en! My lovely, get off your kne-eee-es and come back here with me-eeeee!" Douglas started chanting, "Jen! Jen! Jen!"

Roy's eyelids fluttered sweetly.

"What wasn't you, Jen?" said Moss impatiently. "He's waking Roy up with this nonsense!"

"It's Richmond. He's been with Richmond all night! I passed out under my desk."

They both looked over at the Red Door. It was slightly ajar. A pale hand with purple and black ombre fingernails crept around on the carpet and collected a copy of OK! magazine and a handful of M&M's. The door widened slightly more, and an angular face peered out at them. They caught sight of a single bloodshot black-ringed eye, and a ghostly shhhhhh-ing sound snaked around the office. Then the hand and face withdrew and the door closed with a quiet metallic thunk.

"Richmond visits him in the dead of night through the air ducts," Jen whispered. "He's been doing it for years. He told me about it while Douglas was asleep. Richmond says Douglas is wildly keen on the whole thing, but insists on believing he's being visited by a series of women from the office, unable to control their sexual longing for him." Jen lowered her voice even more. "But Richmond thinks it's odd he hasn't worked it out, given what they've been getting up to, and the bits involved." She was sounding quite interested.

"Too Much Information, Jen," snapped Moss. "And it's not actually our problem!"

"Currently it _is_ my problem!"

"I thought Richmond had moved out and become a motivational speaker for ex-Goths?" This was half-slurred in Roy's sleepiest voice. His eyes opened, a gentle look in them for Moss.

Somewhere behind the Red Door, Richmond gazed off to stage right and internally viewed a montage of all that had happened since his motivational speaking seminar business had begun its downward spiral into insolvency.

Back on the sticky floor of the IT Dept., Roy smiled at Moss. "Good morning, sexy."

Jen snorted. They both gave her confused looks.

"You look nice without your glasses," said Roy, less sleepy by the moment. He carefully moved his arm out from under Moss's neck and rolled on top of him, kissing him softly and deeply. Happily, Moss kissed him back.

"Jen! Jen! Je-eee-en!"

"Oh God!" said Jen, standing up.

Douglas reached his arms out to her, romantically trying to bridge the space between them. The chair became dangerously un-concealing. Jen made a snap decision, her years of experience navigating tricky situations coalescing into certainty.

She assumed the air of a world-weary therapist. "Listen, Douglas," she said kindly. "There's no easy way to tell you this."

She sat down on Moss's desk, crossing her legs professionally and tapping her finger with slight impatience on a handy clipboard. She sighed. "But I must, it's my vacation, it's my calling, I took a hippo-critic oath to protect and serve all human life. Sit down, Douglas."

"Jen? Tell me nothing's wrong with me? Jen?" Douglas's voice collapsed from commanding into plaintive in a split-second.

"There's something very wrong with you, Douglas. I'm sorry."

Douglas began sobbing powerfully. "Jen, tell me I may yet have some days to live, some hay to make while the sun shines, My (very own) Summer of Love. In the Summertime, Before the Rain, before The Big Chill, before Winter's Bone, Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, Near Dark, and before Night is Falling. Tell me, Jen, tell me-eee."

_'Like a virgin, touched for the very first time,_  
 _Like a vi-ir-ir-ir-gin, when your heart beats next to mine...'_

"It's like the woman says, Douglas. You've been touched for the very first time."

"By who, Jen? By yo-ooouuu?"

"No, Douglas. By Richmond."

Douglas lurched to his feet. Jen held up a masterful hand.

"Wait, Douglas, there's more. He loves you. He visits you every night and he loves you. You knew him not by name, in fact you called him by many female names, but he waits patiently for you, Douglas, behind the Red Door."

Jen turned to look meaningfully at the Red Door.

Douglas whimpered, falling to his knees. "Richmond? Richmond is the bringer of so many nights of ecstasy? And I knew him not. I called him by false names."

He buried his head in his hands. "Oh, Richmond, Richmond. My incubus, my spirited man-horse, my love, my delight!"

Like a man in a dream he rose to his feet—Jen averted her eyes, as did Moss and Roy who had ceased kissing momentarily to witness the extraordinary scene—and floated on the wings of welcome revelation to the Red Door.

"Farewell, and thank you enormously, Jen!" His masterful tone had returned. "Have a $10,000 Christmas bonus!" He flung open the Red Door and plunged into its depths, not to be seen for some days to come.

From her perch on the desk Jen cast a professional eye over Moss and Roy who had resumed their vehement kissing on the floor.

After considering and casting aside several amusing possibilities, she decided to leave well enough alone.

She had Christmas bonus shoes to buy.

 

Much later Moss and Roy ordered a pizza and snuggled together on Roy's couch to watch episodes 1-4 of the original _Battlestar Galactica_. All day Moss had been humming to himself.

 _'You're so fine, and you're mine, I'll be yours till the end of time_ ,  
 _Cause you made me feel, yeah, you ma-a-a-ade me feel, I've got nothing to hide..._ '

Roy didn't seem to mind. In fact, a couple of times Moss had noticed him humming along.

"Does anything feel different to you about us, Roy?" Moss asked as the previews played. He'd had a strange but not unpleasant feeling nagging at him all day.

"No, this is us, as usual," said Roy fondly. He guided Moss's head into a comfortable position on his lap, and dug long fingers into his curly hair. "Eat your pizza, it's starting."

**Author's Note:**

> All lyrics taken from Madonna's 'Like A Virgin', released in 1984.


End file.
